


Blue Sky Road

by Dragonflies_and_Katydids



Series: Dawn [11]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/pseuds/Dragonflies_and_Katydids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen gets a reminder that depression is a chronic condition, and it can put in an appearance at any time.  Dorian tries to help.</p>
<p>Because apparently this is the 'verse my brain wants to play in this week.  Don't ask me, I got no clue, but I hope y'all enjoy.</p>
<p>This is another one where you can place it chronologically wherever you want, but in my timeline, it's two-ish years after <em>Exit Light</em>. Because this shit really can kick you in the head after months of being fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Sky Road

**Author's Note:**

> And I keep on thinking maybe  
> That when I get back on my feet again  
> I could climb so high that I won't feel low  
> And I keep on praying baby  
> That when I get where I am going  
> You'll be showing me a blue sky road
> 
> Podunk, "Wings"

The weather is mocking him. Not that anyone else would agree, but Cullen knows that's exactly what's happening.

It's the kind of day Skyhold gets maybe twice a year, when it's warm enough even Dorian will allow that the temperature is almost tolerable. The sun shines out of an impossibly blue sky, and the breeze is just enough to offset the sun's heat without sneaking chilly fingers into every corner and crevice, not to mention every sleeve and collar. Days like today were made for lying around in the garden, pretending to play chess while they wallow in the rare gift nature has given them.

Instead, Cullen's stuck at the war table while the Inquisitor and Josephine work through a problem so tangled and Orlesian that Cullen gave up trying to understand it five minutes into what turned out to be a twenty-minute-long explanation. It doesn't involve the army, and Josephine looked horrified when he suggested solving the problem by simply imprisoning the principals, so now he's standing at the table staring out the window, close enough to see what he's missing. It's tempting to open the window, except he doesn't particularly want to chase papers and map counters around the room for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time the meeting breaks up, Cullen feels like a child released an hour late by his tutor. His farewells are brief and cast over his shoulder as he strides down the corridor. Behind him, Leliana laughs, but he doesn't care.

The garden, it turns out, is too crowded for relaxing, and lacks both Bull and Dorian, an additional mark against it. As he weaves through everyone else who thought the garden was the perfect place to spend such a beautiful day, Cullen tries to think of some alternate place they could go, just the three of them. As a defensive structure, Skyhold leaves little to be desired (at least, now that they've finished repairing the outer wall), but the same features that make it defensible also mean there are few comfortable places to enjoy the weather. And places that are both comfortable and private? The only one Cullen knows of is the Inquisitor's tower, which is not an option even in jest.

He's so engrossed in his own thoughts that he doesn't pay much attention to where he's going until he looks up and finds the mages' tower only a few feet in front of him. His entire body seizes up, frozen as perfectly as any victim of a mage's ice spell, and all his half-formed plans desert him. The desire just beginning in his belly is smothered by the kind of despair he hasn't felt in months, the kind that overwhelms everything else.

The weather is mocking him again, but now it's for a very different reason. He hates the blue sky deep in his bones, hates the people in the garden who can simply enjoy it, hates himself for being so weak that he can be swamped like this, by nothing more sinister than the sight of a tower he's walked by a hundred times. Maker's breath, he walked by it this morning and hardly noticed.

Cullen stands there a long time, long enough for the shadows to shift markedly, before one of the guards patrolling the wall says, "Sir? Did you need something?"

"No," Cullen says woodenly. "Just...enjoying the weather."

"It is nice, isn't it, sir? Course, it'll likely snow tomorrow, just to spite us." The man laughs, and Cullen bends his mouth into the shape of a smile.

At least the conversation, brief as it is, breaks his paralysis.

The garden is no less crowded this time, but where before the crowds were a minor irritant, now Cullen has to grit his teeth and hold tightly to his coat to keep himself in check. He wants to say or do something to make even one other person as miserable as he is.

Dorian is in the library, and thank the Maker for that because Cullen doesn't have the faintest idea where to find Bull right now. Whatever Dorian is researching, he's completely engrossed in it, a book in his hands and two more open in his lap, resting on top of each other. One of his hands marks a place on the page of the topmost book while he frowns at the one in his hand.

Cullen doesn't disturb him, just slides around his chair to look out of his window. The warm breeze against his face is more like a slap, another reminder of how beautiful the day is now that he can't find any enjoyment in it.

"Did you need something, Commander?" Dorian asks in a distracted voice.

"Just looking for something to read," Cullen says. He struggles briefly with himself, then adds, "I'm...having a bad day."

That gets Dorian's attention instantly. Cullen can feel his gaze, like an open flame too close to the back of his neck. "A bad day?" Dorian asks.

"Did I stutter?" Cullen snaps, then sighs. "Sorry. It will pass." He's learning that, and learning to believe it even when the blackness smothers everything. It's not always easy.

"Can I help?" Dorian asks. He came closer while Cullen was distracted, and he's now at Cullen's shoulder, his voice low to spare them from eavesdroppers.

"No," Cullen says, and again, the word is too sharp. He leans the side of his head against the wall by the window. "Just...pretend I'm not here, all right?"

He's asking a lot: Dorian wants to solve problems, fix whatever's broken, not just stand quietly by. Cullen knows Dorian still believes, deep in his heart, that there's a spell or a potion that can make everything right, if only someone can find the book or the scroll or the lost elven rune. "Someone", of course, meaning Dorian.

But this time, Dorian says "all right" in a voice that sounds only a little bit forced. His fingers brush the back of Cullen's neck. "Let me know if you want any suggestions on what to read, but the books on these shelves here are mostly magical theory. Perhaps a little dry, to a non-mage." He steps away, the air cold where he was.

Cullen doesn't answer. Eyes closed, the side of the window digging lightly into his cheek, he listens to Dorian settling back in his chair and tries to think of nothing at all. Behind him, Dorian is muttering to himself and to his books, half-finished questions and exasperated insults directed at the intelligence of the writers.

"What are you reading?" Cullen asks after a while.

" _De rerum natura_ ," Dorian says, as if that means something to Cullen. A page turns. "The weather's almost civilized, you know. We could sit out in the sun, and I could read it to you."

Maybe it isn't all bad, that Dorian can't leave a problem alone until he's either solved it or broken it past any hope of fixing. Cullen smiles reluctantly. "There's not really anywhere to sit outside, other than the garden, and there are enough people there, you'd have to shout to be heard."

"Tsk, Commander." Cullen hears the book snap closed. "You obviously haven't spent enough time trying to find a little peace in this blighted castle. Whoever designed it should have had his fingers broken, as he clearly couldn't ever go in a straight line, but there are any number of places we could sit."

"I'd like to sit in the sun," Cullen murmurs, glancing back out the window.

Dorian sets aside the other books in his lap, tucks _De rerum natura_ under his arm, and links his other arm through Cullen's to lead him up the stairs and out onto the narrow balcony that circles the rookery. The balcony itself doesn't lead anywhere, but the far end of it is in the sun right now, and the stones are warm when Cullen sits down in the corner. It's even warmer when Dorian sits beside him, leaning against his shoulder.

It's quiet for a few moments, except for the sound of pages turning quickly, then Dorian makes a small, satisfied noise and begins to read. Cullen can't say whether it's interesting or not, as Dorian reads it aloud in the original Tevene, with occasional acerbic asides that make absolutely no sense without context. After a page or so, Cullen turns a little, putting his arm around Dorian's shoulders, and Dorian turns with him, settling easily into this new position.

The sun drifts across the sky and the shadows drift with it, until their previously sunny corner is a little too cool for comfort. Dorian reads on as if he hasn't noticed, and though Cullen knows it's selfish, he doesn't say anything, just lets himself have this small stretch of time.


End file.
